Page 90 of Warmer, Colder

“That depends. What will it cost for you to fuck me like it’s the end of the world as we know it?”

“Well, I already own your soul, so I guess I’ll accept a taste of this pretty pussy.”

“Just a taste?” I lift my hips to help her take off my shorts, then start on the clasps of her top that are the bane of my existence.

“You’re a fine wine baby, I intend to savor you.”

“And what if I want to be devoured, right here, right now.”

“I suppose I’ll have to give my greedy girl what she wants. You’re a monster of my own making, after all.” She steps out of her skirt, standing naked over me. I’m incapable of resisting thetemptation to worship her body, as I sit up and trail kiss after kiss up her legs before parting her with my tongue.

“Good, because this is how I want to spend my afterlife.”

“Eating me out?”

“Showing you just how precious you are to me. Treating you the way you always deserved to be celebrated, cared for, adored.” I affectionately kiss her clit. “Your vulnerability, your needs, your love, it’s safe with me. There’s no side of you I don’t want to know. There’s no part of you that’s too much for me. Every inch of you—inside and out—belongs to me. I’m ready to take that leap of faith.”

Stasi looks away, but not before I catch the sparkle of unshed tears in her brown eyes.

Rising to my feet, I bring her hands to my lips, and I continue. “To have and to hold, for better or worse, through healing and setback, for as long as we both shall haunt.” I smirk at that last part.

“You think you’re so clever,” she says with a laugh, finally looking down at me.

“I am.”

“You are, my perfect girl.” She reaches into the tiny pocket on her skirt that I would have sworn was fake and pulls out a mood ring.

“Where did you get that? What are you—“

Grabbing my hand, she isolates my ring finger. “As long as we both shall haunt.” As the color-changing ring finds its place at the base of my knuckle, I finally have the assurance I’ve always been looking for. I know without a doubt that everything is going to be okay.

Epilogue

Becca

December 10th, 2065 – Becca’s 51stDeathiversary

Rain pours down on me, drenching my hair, and soaking through my clothes. It weighs me down like the lifetime of guilt I’ve been carrying.

But this isn’t about me, it’s about her.My everything.She deserves closure, she’s not the kind of person who should disappear into a stack of cold cases. Stasi brought me out of the darkness of the closet I was hiding in, the least I can do is free her from this sad excuse for a grave.

With my parents gone, and Aiden—my heart twinges at the reminder of what he did for me, what he sacrificed for me—it’s time to lay this to rest once and for all.

Over and over, I plunge my shovel into the dirt. The motion takes me back to the memories of that night. But they don’t destroy me like they used to, they barely touch me at all—just lessons and mistakes, no longer capable of hurting me.

As I get closer to the bottom—or what I think is nearly the bottom—I dig more carefully, trying not to do more harm to her than nature already has. A glimpse of ivory peaks out. Trying to avoid her bones, I toss in a sheet and patio chair I intend to stand on, then follow them into the pit. With cautious fingers, I brushaway the layer of earth that clings to the last pieces of her living form, caressing them like I would the velvety skin that I’m used to, and place them at the center of the fabric. When I’m finished, I gather the edges and tie the top, creating a makeshift bag.

Setting the tied-up sheet on the edge of the hole, I climb up, struggling a bit with the rain-slicked ground, but I finally manage to pull myself out. With a deep breath, I carry what’s left of her in my trembling arms to the front yard.

I know I can’t be taken away from here, but the thought of other people seeing me after all this time, with the remains of a body no less, is anxiety-inducing.

The unease settles in my stomach as I round the house to see Hawthorne leaning against his car across the street. The fact that he looks much younger than he should will never be less bizarre to me despite how many times he’s explained it, but I guess I don’t have much room to talk. I smile at him in acknowledgement. He only gives me a single nod, confirming that our plan will work if I just trust him; it’s the reassurance I need to sit in the grass and wait for someone to spot us.

Luckily for me, Hawthorne is used to dealing with death and hidden bodies. Explaining my idea to him went over fairly well, not that I was asking permission, but I thought he had a right to know what I planned to do and the chaos it would stir up for a little bit—it is his house technically, after all. He’s been good to Stasi and me, buying this house so that we could stay here undisturbed. He even promised to make arrangements for his own passing, so we’d never be left in the hands of strangers. We really couldn’t have asked for a better set of circumstances. There’s just one more loose end to tie up.

Opening the sheet, I let the bones breathe fresh air for the first time in decades. Sitting beside them, I wait, but it doesn’t take long. The first porch light comes on across the street, then another and another, the neighbors rushing out to theirdriveways, to see what the disturbance could be in their perfect little neighborhood—it is the middle of the night after all, or very close to it.I timed this just so.

Just like the cookie-cutter houses, they line up along the sidewalk and stare at the girl who’s casually sitting in the front yard with human remains. Their panic is laughable after the real horrors we underwent on this very street, but it’s the effect I was hoping for; sirens can be heard in the distance. When tires screech to a halt and voices rise, I let go of all the remorse I’ve been holding onto until I could finally give Stasi what she deserves.

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